Huh, I think you just described my relationship with my ex-fiance. Intense, crazy, strong emotional connection between two people who had very recently lost their way. I have ZERO desire to see him ever again. Even after 7 years and being in a happy relationship now, the residual pain is still too much.
But, uh, no sex their either. I think that would have been catastrophic.
I haven’t, but hey, what the hell…I’ll hump anything.
No!!!
:rolleyes::mad::p;):D:cool::eek::rolleyes::mad::p:o:dubious::(:D;):rolleyes::mad::)
:eek:
dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::dubious:(:D;):mad::rolleyes:
:eek::rolleyes:;):p:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::(:D:p:mad::):rolleyes::mad::p;):D:cool::eek::rolleyes::mad::p:o:dubious::(:D;):rolleyes::mad::):eek:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::dubious:(:D;):mad::rolleyes::eek::rolleyes:;):p:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::(:D:p:mad::):rolleyes::mad::p;):D:cool::eek::rolleyes::mad::p:o:dubious::(:D;):rolleyes::mad::):eek:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::dubious:(:D;):mad::rolleyes::eek::rolleyes:;):p:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::(:D:p:mad::):rolleyes::mad::p;):D:cool::eek::rolleyes::mad::p:o:dubious::(:D;):rolleyes::mad::):eek:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::dubious:(:D;):mad::rolleyes::eek::rolleyes:;):p:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::(:D:p:mad::):rolleyes::mad::p;):D:cool::eek::rolleyes::mad::p:o:dubious::(:D;):rolleyes::mad::):eek:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::dubious:(:D;):mad::rolleyes::eek::rolleyes:;):p:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::(:D:p:mad::):rolleyes::mad::p;):D:cool::eek::rolleyes::mad::p:o:dubious::(:D;):rolleyes::mad::):eek:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::dubious:(:D;):mad::rolleyes::eek::rolleyes:;):p:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::(:D:p:mad::):rolleyes::mad::p;):D:cool::eek::rolleyes::mad::p:o:dubious::(:D;):rolleyes::mad::):eek:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::dubious:(:D;):mad::rolleyes::eek::rolleyes:;):p:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::(:D:p:mad::):rolleyes::mad::p;):D:cool::eek::rolleyes::mad::p:o:dubious::(:D;):rolleyes::mad::):eek:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::dubious:(:D;):mad::rolleyes::eek::rolleyes:;):p:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::(:D:p:mad::):rolleyes::mad::p;):D:cool::eek::rolleyes::mad::p:o:dubious::(:D;):rolleyes::mad::):eek:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::dubious:(:D;):mad::rolleyes::eek::rolleyes:;):p:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::(:D:p:mad::):rolleyes::mad::p;):D:cool::eek::rolleyes::mad::p:o:dubious::(:D;):rolleyes::mad::):eek:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::dubious:(:D;):mad::rolleyes::eek::rolleyes:;):p:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::(:D:p:mad::):rolleyes::mad::p;):D:cool::eek::rolleyes::mad::p:o:dubious::(:D;):rolleyes::mad::):eek:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::dubious:(:D;):mad::rolleyes::eek::rolleyes:;):p:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::(:D:p:mad::):rolleyes::mad::p;):D:cool::eek::rolleyes::mad::p:o:dubious::(:D;):rolleyes::mad::):eek:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::dubious:(:D;):mad::rolleyes::eek::rolleyes:;):p:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::(:D:p:mad::):rolleyes::mad::p;):D:cool::eek::rolleyes::mad::p:o:dubious::(:D;):rolleyes::mad::):eek:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::dubious:(:D;):mad::rolleyes::eek::rolleyes:;):p:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::(:D:p:mad::):rolleyes::mad::p;):D:cool::eek::rolleyes::mad::p:o:dubious::(:D;):rolleyes::mad::):eek:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::dubious:(:D;):mad::rolleyes::eek::rolleyes:;):p:dubious::smack::smack::smack::smack::(:D:p:mad:
My first boyfriend in high school cut off the tip of one of his fingers when we broke up. Does that count? There were other crazy things too.
Why yes. Yes, I have. Our divorce was final this morning at 9:00 AM.
I think I’ve posted about them before.
One was a girl who could only have an orgasm if she were verbally abused in bed. She needed to be called ugly, stupid, worthless, and so forth. Calling her an stupid, ugly, worthless cunt got her all fired up. She also would, after an orgasm, cry for extremely long periods of time. I’m talking half an hour. She’d cry if I stayed in bed with her; she’d cry if I tried to leave and beg me not to.
The other was a woman who did not believe that I actually found small bosoms attractive and was perfectly fine with hers. One night, after I had spent some time playfully debating which of her nipples I loved best, she angrily accused me of not truly being attracted to her. No man could want a woman as flat-chested as she, she said; I was lying if I said I did, and of course I was doing so to get her into bed. I asked her if she meant that I didn’t want to fuck her, but was pretending to want to fuck her, in order to fuck her, which I didn’t want to do, and she said, “Yes! That’s exactly it!”
We need a crazy smiley.
O my yes. And for the several less crazy mates I have, I harbor warm feelings to this day, but for the crazier one, only a sense of relief. Whew, that was close…
I will tonight with a bit of luck.
I think I’m the crazier one sometimes. Fortunately, or maybe not, I haven’t really had a chance to find out. (Although there’s this redhead down Virginia way who I might have had a chance with…)
Yes, dissocial personality disorder (his term: it sounded like psychopathy to me from his explanation). It was a great relationship while it lasted (one summer in my late 20s), if a bit embarrassing around my family. I think three months was about the limit, though, and I didn’t have to deal with any episodes. I assume it would have ended badly had it continued, but since it didn’t it’s my second-best relationship ever. (Best is current, of course.)
Yar; I recall him coming into the bedroom in the middle of the night and telling me to get the hell out. Not sure who he wanted to ball that night so badly that he needed me out RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, but I told him to go away until morning. This doesn’t sound like much, but I am a very non-confrontational person, and it was a sign of just how fed up I was with him that I responded that way, instead of getting up out of <his> bed and leaving.
Let’s see…had one guy threaten to beat the 6-week-along pregnancy out of me if I didn’t get an abortion; I had pretty much the same reaction to him, too. Again, I’m very non-confronational, but a girl can only take so much macho posturing before she rolls her eyes and tells him to bring it or shut up.
Um…also, when I was 18, there was a 26 year old friend who was so ‘in love’ with me that he got mad when he realized I wasn’t going to dump my boyfriend for him. ‘Mad’ in the sense of leaving me a suicide note. My response to that was, literally, “Ok, good, well, if that’s what he wants to do, maybe he should”.
Damn I sound cold, and like I date a lot of crazy guys, but 3 out of a hundred or so ain’t bad odds, I guess. None of them lasted more than a couple weeks; I might get the adrenaline itch once in a while, but it’s easily scratched. I prefer ‘normal’ 99.9 percent of the time.
Do I know you? 
(Just teasing; left Virginia a couple years ago)
Virginia, Ontario?
Well, yes.
Congratulations, man. I was sorry when things exploded, but I’m glad the pain of the divorce is over.
Cheers, my friend. Cheers.
Crazy is a tough word - I’m not sure I would use it. But my last girlfriend had anger management issues - would go into full-fledged enraged over little things; then regret them later.
After walking that mine-field for a while I decided it wasn’t worth the issues, so I ended the relationship.
As I’m the sanest person I know, all of my lovers have been, by definition, crazier than me. 
Yes, I have been clinically diagnosed as normal. Distressingly so in fact. So much so that the test administrator determined that I must have gamed the test. :rolleyes:
MOIDALIZE, I think your post has to qualify as the “most colorful” in SDMB history!